Bermuda
by FireNight
Summary: This was under another pen name, but peridodically I change everything to get new readers. Now, this a tale of what happends after the characters of Misty's Herald's of Valdemar series die. They go to Bermuda.
1. Threes

~*II:Disclaimer:II*~  
  
Well look at that. I got bored again. I'm Blackflame. Also known as Wren or   
Asagao. But here, I shall be known as Blackflame. I thank my good friend,   
Watershadow for the use name that she helped me come up with, and permission to   
let me write my own version of her "A Tribute," Misty style. For those of you   
who do not know who Misty is, I pity you. Misty is Mercedes Lackey, and if you   
didn't know that that was her nick name, you can't truly call yourself a true   
Misty fan...well, you can, but let me live in my own little world...eh? *sigh*   
Anyways. For those of you who have been to Firebird Arts (firebirdarts.com)   
there is a section that's called, Ask Misty. In this part, you can ask the   
Mistress of Vegarth herself the questions that have been burning a hole in your   
brain for some reason or other. One question that always comes up is "Where did   
so-and-so go?" "What happened to so-and-so?" "What's up with so-and-so?" And   
Misty's reply always tends to be, "Bermuda." "Van and Stef went to Bermuda."   
"Tarma and Keth are in Bermuda." "Yes, Warrl went to Bermuda too." So, this is   
my tale of Bermuda, sticking all the characters of Velgarth together. One   
thing...   
  
I DO NO OWN ANYTHING BELONGING TO MISTY, IDEAS, BOOKS, AND ANYTHING ELSE THAT IS   
HERS AND NOT MINE! THEY ARE ALL MISTY'S. I KNOW THAT MISTY ISN'T READING THIS   
BECAUSE THAT WOULD BE STUPID ON HER PART, BUT NONETHELESS, I DISCLAIM   
THIS!!!!!!!!!  
  
All puns are intended. Well, now that that is over, shall we get on with the   
story?  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
The waters around the small island were clear and blue. Fish of every shape,   
size, and color flitted from point to point in the water's distortion. A young,   
shaggy wolf, the size of a small horse, sat on the beach, looking over the fish   
with a hungry, greedy eye.  
  
"You're dead, Furface. There is not point in eating the fish."  
  
The _kyree_ looked over at a young woman dressed in a black swim-suit and black   
beach-skirt lounging in a lawn chair. Her raven hair wore many braids and fell   
gracefully around her hawk-like features, and her golden skin was void of any of   
the scars in boasted in life.  
  
:That, Mindmate, is hardly the point. I haven't hunted since we got here.: Warrl   
sniffed. :My senses are going to rust with disuse!:  
  
Tarma snorted her amusement. "As if a _kyree's_ senses could rust! And what's   
the worry here? Just relax."  
  
The young Shin'a'in caught sight of amber on the island breeze, and smiled at   
her sister. "Where have you been, green eyes?"  
  
The young mage folded herself gracefully in the sand and adjusted herself   
carefully. Her hair was a little more rustled then the warm island breeze   
warranted, and Tarmachuckled knowingly. Kethry sighed, contented. "With Jadrek,"   
she said simply. "We were talking."  
  
Tarma laughed outright. "And then some, I imagine."  
  
The green eyed mage laid back and stretched her long, lithe body out, her nude   
shaded floral bikini stretching with her. Kethry smiled and closed her eyes,   
satisfied. "Mmhum. More then talking, I would say. But, I don't really know. I   
was will him for quite a while."  
  
A mental chuckled hovering between the three of them. :Who was it that wore out   
first this time?: Warrl padded over, careful not to throw sand. Tarma absently   
scratched the lupine head and laughed.  
  
"Me," the mage replied, turning to look up at her dark sister and the _kyree_.   
"Jad's younger than he used to be." A sly smile played across Kethry's lips.   
"And I am an excellent teacher, if I do say so myself."  
  
A volleyball suddenly found it's way between the two women and sand went   
everywhere. They both laughed and brushed themselves off as a young man ran   
toward them. His long blue-black hair was streaked silver and fell beautifully   
around his bare shoulders. White swim shorts hung around his narrow hips. In   
short, he was a beautiful man.  
  
His silver-blue eyes danced with merriment as he came up to them. "Forgive us,   
ladies. The Bard of my heart had terrible aim."  
  
"Only with sports equipment." Another young man ran up to them and put his arms   
around the silver eyed young man's shoulders. He wore the same swim shorts as   
the other young man, only red and white, rather than just white. His hair was   
auburn, but sun-streaked in shades of blond, and his eyes where brown, but in   
sunlight, they were hazel with more green the brown. "Last night, however, I do   
believe that I proved my aim was as good as yours, if not better!"  
  
Tarma and Kethry laughed as Vanyel mimed a blow at the Herald-turned-Bard.   
Stefen laughed as he ducked and caught the Herald-mage around the waist laughing   
wickedly. "You've just had more practice that all." Vanyel laughed as he took   
the volleyball from Warrl who held it in his mouth.  
  
"Thank you, wolf-brother."  
  
:You're welcome, Herald.:  
  
"VANYEL!"  
  
A young woman with long black hair and sapphire eyes waved at Vanyel to hurry.   
Her swim-suit was an exact copy of Tarma's but in pure, incandescent white. She   
ran over.  
  
"'Fandes, we found the ball." Stefen told her.  
  
Yfandes smiled. "I see that." She giggled. "And I know about that aim of yours!"  
  
"'Fandes!" Vanyel colored beautifully.  
  
"What?" Yfandes danced out of the way of Vanyel's pounce, laughing maliciously.   
"It's not my fault that you forgot to block me out last night!"  
  
Stefen laughed and grabbed Vanyel around the waist again, to hinder his   
murdering of the young woman.  
  
"C'mon, Van-ashke. Let's go finish our game. You can kill Yfandes in points."   
Stefen glanced at the former mercenaries. "Care to join us?"  
  
Tarma looked over at Kethry. Her ice blue eyes met with green eyes that were   
bright with amusement. "Well, since you offered, who else is playing?" Kethry   
asked.  
  
Vanyel looked over at Stefen who looked skyward for the answer. "Um, I think we   
have Lashan, Flarren, Dawnfire, and Tre'valen." Stefen let go of Van, who   
preceded to chase Yfandes again, and he crossed his arms as he bit the tip of   
his thumb. "Yeah, that's about it. We Need at least another two players."  
  
Yfandes shrieked as Vanyel caught her and pinned her down in another lawn chair.   
"Careful, Chosen. Stef might get jealous."  
  
Vanyel laughed. "Wrong, gender, lovely lady!" Vanyel sat on her lap as he looked   
non-nonchalantly back at the rest of the group. Yfandes laughed and tried to   
move him, but he wouldn't budge.  
  
Stefen tackled both of them and sent the chair flying backward, much to the   
amusement of the other Three on lookers. Yfandes escaped quickly and ran for the   
volleyball net. Kethry laughed and grabbed the ball on her way out. Tarma's   
flying braids were a split second behind, her giggling sounding in her wake and   
Warrl matching her pace.  
  
"Well, Van. It certainly took us long enough to get here."  
  
"That it did, ashke." Vanyel sighed and trudge slowly next to his   
_shay'kreth'ashke._  
  
Stefen stopped, as did Vanyel next to him, blue-black tresses mingled with   
sun-streaked auburn as the light breeze became stronger and the day turned into   
evening, the sun was half a sphere over the water.  
  
:Van, ashke, what is it?:  
  
Vanyel laughed and wrapped his own arms around the Bard's waist, Stefen's hands   
rested on the mage's elbows. :It's just _perfect_ here, Stef. That's all.:   
Vanyel shook his head and pulled Stefen closer. :You know how much perfect is a   
bore. No wander everyone wants to be reborn as soon as they can.:  
  
"Do you want to be reborn, Van?"  
  
Vanyel's silver-blue eyes smiled into Stefen's hazel, and he kissed the Bard   
lovingly. :Only if you come with me.:  
  
:Oh! So you can't live without _him_, but you can live without _me?!_  
  
Vanyel broke the kiss hastily or risk laughing hysterically into his lover's   
mouth. Stefen was in no better shape. They both fell in a heap on the sun-warmed   
sand as the sun slipped below the watery horizon.  
  
:Of course I can't live without you, horse! But I don't want to be a Herald   
again.:  
  
:And neither do I. But I don't want to be a commoner either. How else am I going   
to find Van?:  
  
Yfandes sent a mental chuckle to the both of them. :We'll figure something out.   
Now hurry up! You're holding up the game!: She mentally jabbed at them slyly.   
:You can fondle one another later!:  
  
Vanyel and Stefen both laughed again, but weren't embarrassed. Yfandes was kind   
enough to make the truth a joke as she murmured huskily at them. :Bermuda,   
Bahamas, c'mon pretty mamma...: 


	2. Sun and Shadow

~*II:Disclaimer:II*~  
  
Well look at that. I got bored again. I'm Blackflame. Also known as Wren or   
Asagao.   
But here, I shall be known as Blackflame. I thank my good friend, Watershadow   
for the  
use name that she helped me come up with, and permission to let me write my own  
version of her "A Tribute," Misty style. For those of you who do not know who   
Misty is,  
I pity you. Misty is Mercedes Lackey, and if you didn't know that that was her   
nick name,  
you can't truly call yourself a true Misty fan...well, you can, but let me live   
in my own little  
world...eh? *sigh* Anyways. For those of you who have been to Firebird Arts  
(firebirdarts.com) there is a section that's called, Ask Misty. In this part,   
you can ask the  
Mistress of Vegarth herself the questions that have been burning a hole in your   
brain for  
some reason or other. One question that always comes up is "Where did so-and-so   
go?"   
"What happened to so-and-so?" "What's up with so-and-so?" And Misty's reply   
always  
tends to be, "Bermuda." "Van and Stef went to Bermuda." "Tarma and Keth are in  
Bermuda." "Yes, Warrl went to Bermuda too." So, this is my tale of Bermuda,   
sticking  
all the characters of Velgarth together. One thing...   
  
I DO NO OWN ANYTHING BELONGING TO MISTY, IDEAS, BOOKS, AND  
ANYTHING ELSE THAT IS HERS AND NOT MINE! THEY ARE ALL MISTY'S. I  
KNOW THAT MISTY ISN'T READING THIS BECAUSE THAT WOULD BE  
STUPID ON HER PART, BUT NONETHELESS, I DISCLAIM THIS!!!!!!!!!  
  
Well, with the last installment, I was told I damn well better write another   
chapter, or I  
may not live to see that light of another day. ^^; Eyah, so here it is, spring   
water. Don't  
kill me please?!  
  
All puns are intended. Well, now that that is over, shall we get on with the   
story?   
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
She sat quietly by the waters; it was quite dark out. The moon was waning and   
the stars  
shown as brightly as the sliver, but still, it was dark. She gazed out over the   
waters as  
dark as her black eyes. The island breeze was gustily and played with her shadow   
colored  
hair. The only thing light about her was her pale complexion, as if she rarely,   
if ever, saw  
the sun in life. She pulled her knees to her chest, her whipcord, dancer's body   
covered by  
a black suit and black Daise Duke's. Black sandals sat next her in the sand,   
nearly  
forgotten.  
  
He sat next to her. His hair was the purest gold; his eyes the deepest blue that   
the  
heaven's ever produced. His kaki shorts matched the sand in the moon light. He   
was tall,  
broad shouldered, and dark complected, as if all he ever saw was the sun. He was   
quite  
night-blind, where she saw as if it were midday.  
  
"A copper for your thoughts," he asked quietly, watching the waters as well.  
  
"It took us a long time to get here, didn't it?" Her voice was soft and deep,   
almost reedy.  
  
"Yes, love. It did." His voice was tenor, musical, and full of warmth.  
  
"Do you regret it," she asked, her voice nearly inaudible.  
  
"None of it," he responded, just as quietly. "I had you at Twilight. I loved you   
when the  
curse was broken. I died with you in my arms. I have you now. I regret nothing."   
He  
was silent for a moment. "Do you?"  
  
She hesitated for a moment, and her looked at her.   
  
"Never," she replied. "You saved my heart. In turn, we saved Darshay. I died in   
your  
arms, and am with you now." She glanced over at him, a soft smile playing on her   
lips.   
"It _was_ your fault. You and your righteousness killed us both!"  
  
He pounced on her, tumbling both of them until she lay beneath him, her lack   
eyes dancing  
merrily.  
  
"My fault?" He trailed kisses down her jaw line. "If I recall correctly, it was   
you who  
insisted that the Guardian and his were in more dire need of Magic than we."  
  
She chuckled deepening in her throat and he nibbled her ear lobe.  
  
"Your memory does not fail you. However, who was it that taught me kindness and  
justice?" She slid her hands down his arms and sought his shoulder. "Were it not   
for you,  
I would have let them die, and damned cheerfully, thanking Her that is was not   
us. And  
then were would we be?"  
  
His wandering lips traveled to the hollow of her throat.  
  
"I really could care less. We _did_ save Darshay, and we _are_ here. What does   
anything  
else matter?"  
  
She slid her hands down his back as his fingers and mouth did delightful things.   
"Nothing,  
I would assume."  
  
"Ugh," came a disgusted voice. "They're at it again!"  
  
They both lost themselves to a laughing fit.  
  
"Well, Lan, we're no better..." Kalira commented.  
  
Lavan wrapped a possessive arm around the light haired girl's waist. "So?"  
  
Both young lovers smiled and moved along, leaving the older lovers alone.  
  
"Lifebonds," he said, his blond hair playing with the breeze.  
  
She tapped his head. "We are lifebonds," her black eyes still dancing   
mischievously.  
  
He chuckled. "As Lavan said, 'so?'"  
  
She smiled and put her arms around his neck, pulling herself to him in her own   
possessive  
way. "Well, sun-born lover. I rather enjoy this place far too much to leave just   
yet, but  
you seem to want life again."  
  
He sighed as she drew him down next to her on the sandy beach. "Too true,   
star-eyed  
maid." He slid an arm under her head to pillow it, while the other snaked around   
her slim  
waist. "But I'll not go without you." He nuzzled her neck and she giggled. "I'd   
rather  
stay here in utter boredom with you than have to most adventurous life without   
you."  
  
She laughed when a sudden thought occurred to her. "Go speak with young Tarma.   
She'll cures you with that Shin'a'in tongue of hers. And take an unholy delight   
in your  
discomfort when your misfortune happens upon you!"  
  
He face too on an expression of mock shock. "my Lady! You are too vindictive for   
your  
own good!" He grinned devilishly at her, tumbling again to pin her down beneath   
him. "I  
think it is time for you to be put in your place!"  
  
His mouth descended upon hers and she chuckled deeply in her throat. He freed   
her hands  
for hardly a moment, but it was long enough. She'd long ago found that he was   
ticklish.   
Very ticklish.  
  
Her fingers went to his sided and worked their way to his most ticklish spot and   
he was  
sent into s giggling fit. He collapsed in the sand next to her, but she didn't   
let up. She  
threw her leg over, straddling him, and continued her ministrations. The night   
was  
punctuated with his hysterical laughing.  
  
A short time later, he turned the tables on her; she may not be ticklish, but he   
was stronger  
than her. Once again, they tumbled ad he sat on her, quite content and smiling   
maliciously  
down at her.  
  
"Beast," she said shortly, laughing.  
  
"Minx," he countered.  
  
"You're taking too much delight in this," she replied, crossing her arms over   
her chest.  
  
He returned the gesture. "You were torturing me."  
  
He laughed richly. "oh, yes. Torture by pleasure. I am a naughty little one,   
aren't I?"  
  
His smiled turned into t grin. "Yes, you are." He bent down fluidly and   
whispered at her  
lips, "I think you need a little of that treatment."  
  
He kissed her teasingly until her wrapped her arms around his neck and would not   
let him  
go. He did a few other things teasingly, and then he stopped teasing, and   
neither were in  
any shape to hear a soft whisper on the wind, :Key Largo, Montego, Baby, why   
don't we  
go...: 


	3. Magic's Price

~*II:Disclaimer:II*~  
  
Well, I obviously don't own anything that has been created by Mercedes Lackey,   
also known as Misty. Van, Stef, 'Fandes, Florian, Conal, or Gala, they are all   
the creating of Misty. And Bermuda ain't mine either. That is a real island   
that—last I heard, it may have changed by now—belongs to England. The idea   
that Bermuda is Heaven is also Misty's. Now, there are some people who are   
proud to be an American that believe that I am writing rubbish. First of all, if   
you are going to insult me, my writing, or flame me for some reason, please,   
great, good gods PLEASE! Do so correctly. There is nothing more annoying then   
trying to figure out what someone's problem is with what I write. Also, Misty   
would _not_ be shocked. Hell, she wouldn't even care. She doesn't read   
fanfiction because that's the fasted way to get her ass sued for stealing   
someone else's work. So, it really doesn't matter what I write, because   
she's not going to read it. I write what I do because I like what I'm   
writing, and I want to share what I write with everyone else here. I don't   
care if you like it or not, just give me someone to work with, people. Anyways.   
So, I'll let you all go and read the next chapter of Bermuda. Oh! This is also   
dedicated to my friend, Watershadow, who wanted closure for Gala and   
'Lendel…  
  
Vanyel stretched and encountered no stiffness or soreness, and reveled in it.   
Being dead certainly had its advantages. And finally have Stefen was an added   
plus. The volley ball game yesterday had been fun, but the events after had been   
even more fun…  
  
Stefen murmured in his sleep, and Vanyel looked over at him. He was so like his   
past self, yet so different. His sun-streaked auburn locks strewn over the   
pillow they shared and mingled with his own silver-streaked blue-black tresses.  
  
"Stef," Vanyel whispered into his lover's ear. "Wake up a little,   
hmm?"  
  
"Mmm…" Stefen responded, slowly opening his hazel eyes.  
  
Vanyel held his breath at the beauty before him. He even has some of   
'Lendel's features…  
  
Stefen smiled sleepily and snuggled closer to the former Herald. "What is it,   
_ashke_?"  
  
Vanyel wrapped his arms around the former Bard and rested his chin on Stefen's   
head. "We have company today," Van replied.  
  
Stefen looked up at Vanyel, one arm resting under his temple, and the other   
draped over Van's hip. "We do, don't we?"  
  
Vanyel nodded and began to climb out of the huge, crimson canopied and   
coverleted bed. He heard Stefen chuckle wickedly behind him, and before he had   
his wits about him, he found himself pinned beneath the young man.  
  
"Stef—"  
  
"Shush," Stef whispered at Van's lips. "We don't have to get up,   
yet…"  
  
Vanyel chuckled and met Stef's lips as he wrapped his arms around the other   
man's waist. "True," he said, reluctantly puling away, "but if we start   
now, we won't stop for some time."  
  
Stefen sighed and let Vanyel up. "I know."  
  
Vanyel laughed and made his way to the wardrobe they shared, and pulled out two   
pairs of breeches and two shirts. They had long ago decided that they both   
preferred the clothing of the small island, and would only wear the tunics and   
trews that they were used to in life. The breeches that they both don on now   
were a tight, blue canvassed weave, with belt loops, and at least five pockets.   
Why someone would need that many pockets, Van wasn't sure he wanted to know,   
but hey…  
  
The shirts were twins of one another; only Van's was white, and Stef's   
scarlet. They were just tight enough to cling to both their torso, and had no   
side seams, which was a miraculous wander in Van's mind. The sleeves were   
short and the shirt's design was quite simple, forming an "T."  
  
Knock, knock, knock.  
  
"Come on in Florian," Vanyel called as he turned around and finished   
righting his shirt. The little door opened to caress the both of them in the   
island breeze.  
  
"I am _not_ Florian," Yfandes sniffed. She tossed her dark, black hair and a   
merry little fire kindled in her sapphire eyes. She wore white, form-fitted   
breeches and her shirt was of a white clingy material. Her feet wore a dark gray   
strappy sandals.  
  
Vanyel chuckled. "Sorry, love," he smiled his reply. "We were expecting   
them imp about now. He lost the game last night and his bet. He owes us a day in   
the practice ring."  
  
Stefen laughed. "Yes, I think with the two of us we _might_ be able to give   
him a good work out!"  
  
Yfandes made her way to the vanity that the two men shared and tossed him the   
soft bristled brush. The former mage caught it easily and began to drag it   
through his tangled black main. "You'd think you'd at least know your own   
Companion when she knocked, damned Herald."  
  
Vanyel attacked a particularly stubborn knot as he laughed. "You're right,   
love. I'm sorry," he tossed Stefen the brush and kissed Yfandes delicately   
on the nose. "Can you ever forgive me?"  
  
Yfandes sniffed again. "I'll think about it." Her eyes began to dance at   
her bond mate.  
  
"Hey, try not rub that damned bond of yours in, will you?" came a young   
voice from the door.  
  
Vanyel and Yfandes smiled fondly at a young boy, who in turn, smiled at them.   
His dark hair was that of the color of dead leaves, and his eyes were the same   
sapphire as Yfandes. He also had dressed casually in the clothing of the little   
island, the same blue breeches and white shirt as Vanyel.  
  
"I agree," Stefen remarked, coming to the boy's side. "You two are as   
bad as lifebond couple!"  
  
Yfandes rolled her eyes and Vanyel shook his head. "You're one to talk,   
_shay'kreth'ashke_" Vanyel retorted.  
  
Florian chortled a little. "Still, he is right. I never got to Choose, and he   
never got Chosen."  
  
Stefen sighed a little. "Yes, I was. Twice, if you think about it."  
  
"What?" Florian asked, for the life of him all too confused. "How is that   
possible? I thought the Herald-Companion bond was eternal, and Stef was a   
Bard."  
  
"I was also a Herald, before I was a Bard," Stefen told him, sitting in a   
chair next to the open door.  
  
"Stefen was Herald-Mage Tylendel Frelennye," Vanyel added quietly. "He   
died when Gala, his Companion repudiated him…" Vanyel sat on the bed as he   
tried to pull his hair into a braid to keep it out of his face for the upcoming   
weapons practice.  
  
The three friends all grew a silent and haunted look on their faces. Stefen   
dropped his head and held it in his hands, sighing softly at the past memories   
that weren't exactly his. Vanyel dropped his hair, unfinished, and strode to   
the former Bard's side. He knelt and took one of his lover's hands in his   
own and kissed the knuckles gently.  
  
"She forgave you," Vanyel murmured, so that only Stefen could hear him.   
"Even before she died, she forgave you, she told you that."  
  
"After that," Yfandes continued the story. "When Van and Stef lifebonded,   
the bond that Van and I share was extended to Stef. It was the same with Van and   
'Lendel, with the bond extending from Gala through Tylendel to Van."  
  
"I didn't want a new Companion after Gala," Stef spoke up, lifting his   
head a little to look as Vanyel. "So, I decided I'd never be born a Herald   
again."  
  
"But the legend goes that the Death Bell cried for you, and you were buried in   
full White," Florian was still confused and was voicing it. "Didn't Gala   
forgive you?"  
  
"Of course I did," said a soft voice from behind the boy-Companion. The   
child jumped and knocked into Yfandes. A plain girl, not much older than   
Florian, with chestnut curls falling in her face chuckled at the startled boy.   
She wore white Daisy Dukes and a green strappy shirt. Her feet were bare.  
  
"I…don't get it…" Florian's head snapped from Gala to Stefen and back   
again.  
  
The group looked all together perplexed. "I guess you don't know yet,   
childling," Yfandes murmured quietly.  
  
Gala leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms. "Florian," Gala said   
to him. "When a Companion repudiates her Herald, she condemns not only her   
Herald in life, but the both of them in death as well, for all eternity."  
  
"So, the Herald-Companion bond is forever broken, and will never be   
salvaged," Stefen put in, looking at the former Companion as he rested his   
elbows in his knees.  
  
"And with our lifebond, in a way, 'Fandes is also Stef's Companion,"   
Vanyel supplied. "Do you see, now?"  
  
Florian nodded slowly. "Yes, I think so."  
  
Gala smiled, "Well, I'm off, children," she said giggling at the   
obviousness of her youth. "Just came by to warn you Conal's at it again."  
  
Vanyel rolled his eyes. "He knows how They hate it when he does this. Is he   
using that 'I got lost,' again?"  
  
Gala chuckles. "No, this times it's "Heaven is just so big! I forgot that   
Velgarth Heaven in over here!'"  
  
The small aggregate of friends all laughed. The sidhe was a common source of   
that as of late. Leave it to an elf.  
  
Well, you two," Gala intoned maternally, but her eyes danced mischievously.   
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"  
  
There was a chorus of "And what wouldn't you do," "You do everything,"   
"You _rude_ little bitch," and "That's nice Gala. Give them more lee way   
than they already have."  
  
Gala left with her giggling in her wake, and singing in their minds, :…down to   
Co Como. We'll get there fast and then we'll take it slow…: 


	4. Maiden's Hope

~*II:Disclaimer:II*~  
  
Well, it's the fourth chapter! I never thought it would get this far. I really   
didn't. Bermuda was originally only supposed to be a one-chapter short story. It   
was not supposed to go past Tarma, Keth, Warrl, Van, Stef, and 'Fandes. But, it   
did. And the chapter after this is going to be the last one. I hope no one is   
too upset. If I can get so theories about Bermuda, however, there may be a   
sequel. But that's a big maybe. I can't see how to fit it in. If you have any   
ideas, however, let me know. I'd love to see what everyone else thinks, and   
think that a story compiled by other writers would be very interesting. So,   
e-mail me and let me know, 'kay? Well, let's get the disclaimer part over with.   
I don't own any of this. I think that's enough said, ne? Oh! Just wait until the   
last chap! This one is just for you, Sha. With the stupid gryphon himself!   
  
@~}{~@@~}{~@@~}{~@}{~@ ßMaiden's Hope!  
  
Chapter Four: A Promise Kept  
  
He dropped the garland of Maiden's Hope on the bed and smiled knowingly to   
himself as he remembered that beautiful Midsummer morning. The delicate blossoms   
sat gingerly on the red coverlet and his smiled turned to a grin.  
  
"No doubt about it, hmm, Chosen," Tantris asked, leaning against the window   
frame. His brown, nondescript hair danced slightly on the cool Autumn breeze and   
his sapphire eyes gazed out the window, giving the on looker a sight of a   
masculine, chiseled profile. Kris crossed his arms over his chest and smirked,   
his own long, raven tresses playing with the breeze.   
  
An odd sensation, considering he was dead.  
  
"None at all," he replied leaning against the wall and crossing his legs over   
one another as well. "I know how much Dirk wanted kids," he laughed softly, so   
as not to alert Elspeth sitting just outside the door. "And knowing Talia,   
she'll want them just as much."  
  
:What brings you two from the Heavens,: a deep voice "asked."  
  
Tantris smiled and waved out the window, and Kris stalked over to learn the   
owner of the voice. :Hullo, Rolan!: The late Companion's Mindvoice was light and   
cheerful. The Grove born Companion whickered his reply.   
  
Kris waved out the window as well. :We're fulfilling an old promise,: the former   
field Herald told him.  
  
:You mean the flowers, don't you?:   
  
Kris grinned down at the forlorn look in the "horse's" body language. :That   
would be correct my near demi-god.:  
:But I want to giver her the flowers!:  
  
Kris smiled at the Companion again. :I'm the one that promised her; I should be   
the one to deliver them, so there!:  
  
There was an impression of the Queen's Own Companion sticking his tongue out at   
the two Heaven Hoppers. :You two had better get going, then,: he said evenly,   
with a hint of indigence that the two had laughed at him. :The two newly weds   
are on their way up to their room, and I have no doubt about what they'll be up   
to either--:  
  
:Nor have I any doubt about what you'll be doing, nearly immortal one. What,   
with that bond of yours…: came an feminine voice. :Run along you two: With that,   
the two Companion's rode away.  
  
Kris smiled again. "Come along, brother-mine. We have friends who wish a word or   
two with us on that lovely little island."  
  
Tantris bowed mockingly. "Oh, of course, Noble and Vain Herald."  
  
Kris laughed. "And handsome. Don't forget handsome!"  
  
There was a rolling of sapphire eyes. "However could I have forgotten, that?"  
  
To the on looker, the pair of friends walked to the door, and seemed to fade to   
nothing just as the door opened for a happy wedded couple who seemed the could   
be happier until they saw the little surprise waiting for them. The gift left no   
doubt in their minds that they were loved and watched by _all_ their friends.  
  
@~}{~@  
  
"Took you two long enough to get back," Ylsa snarled good-naturedly out the   
door. Valdemar smiled at the woman's back. "What did you do, fall passionately   
for one another?"  
  
Kris and Tantris' laughing came to the ears of those in the little bungalow, and   
a few moments later, their faces appeared, Kris' holding his laughter; Tantris'   
smirking. "Ylsa," the Companion intoned paternally, his blue eyes dancing with   
mischief, "Just because, you, your lifebonded, and your Companion can't keep   
your hands off each other does not mean that the rest of is can't act reasonably   
around out counterparts!"  
  
Ylsa laughed and gestured for the pair to sit and talk in the little room with   
the rest of the group. Lashan and Valdemar sat next to each other, looking at   
the trio, one in complete confusion, the other trying to suppress his laughter.  
  
"I'm afraid you've utterly confused me again," the mare-like woman said.  
  
Valdemar laced his fingers with hers and patted her hand. "We've always confused   
you, love," he told her. "But then, you were a _sword_ for nearly all of your   
existence, so that _could_ be easily done…"  
  
That comment earned the former king a rough punch in the arm…not that he could   
feel it, being in Heaven and all, but the sensation was there, however detached,   
so he knew she'd hit him hard in hopes that it might actually hurt this time.   
But you just didn't feel pain here.  
  
Valdemar smiled at his lover. There weren't lifebonded, but as far as he could   
tell, that hardly meant anything. She complimented him well, and he didn't want   
to find out whom his lifebond was if it meant losing Lashan, his Need.   
  
"When we're all in human form, all three of us are lovers. We're a strange   
bunch, but we love each other dearly," Ylsa explained. "Usually, two of us are   
lovers, and the third is a Companion, but we all seemed to want to be human this   
time, and all three of us Heralds."  
  
"You lot like to complicate things beyond rational thought," Lashan stated,   
absently rubbing her thumb across Valdemar's hand. "That's why I refuse to be   
reborn."  
  
Ylsa bark a sharp laugh. "Well, you were alive long enough to get it right the   
first time, don't you think?"  
  
Lashan snorted. "If you call being a blind, deaf, mute Mage-Smith existing as a   
hunk of steel living, sure. I lived long enough to get it right the first time."   
All the occupants of the room laughed at that.  
  
"What about you, Valdemar," Kris asked. "You want to be reborn?"  
  
Valdemar laughed, "And leave this one behind to torture everyone except me?"   
Lashan blushed slightly. "No, I like her too much," he replied, looking at her   
appreciatively. Lashan wasn't pretty in the ageless,   
make-any-man-fall-in-love-with-her sense. No, she had the beauty of the   
well-tempered blade she once was. She was strong and loving, and she wouldn't   
take horse turds from anyone. She was the loveliest creature he'd ever laid eyes   
on, though she resembled his Companion. Of course, he'd never tell _her_ that!   
"Besides, if I weren't here, who would jeep her occupied with something other   
than terrorizing people?"  
  
"Feh," Tantris snorted, his eyes smiling knowingly. "You're a sick masochist!   
That the gods you didn't know her where you were alive," he told him tensely.   
"You'd have been a demented king, indeed! I don't think you'd have been Chosen!"  
  
Valdemar took a piece of fruit from the bowl next to his arm and threw the apple   
at the ill-begotten Companion's head.  
  
"You see that," he asked his former Herald as he ducked. "He's sadistic too!"  
  
"Only to you," Kris replied as if commenting on the weather. "But then, everyone   
gets so annoyed with you that you should feel complimented with being pelted   
with only _one_ fruit!"  
  
Tantris jabbed Kris with his elbow. "You're one to talk, 'Insensitive Peacock,"   
he retorted indignantly. "For some reason I seem to recall something about being   
damned to hell. I think that gilded carriages and purple cushions were part of   
it too…"  
  
"So was Dirk," Kris defended, crossing his arms. "It was his fault for snapping   
at her!"  
  
"You were the one who was positive that just because she was female and sharing   
you bed that she's fallen madly in love with you," Tantris said laughing. "Now,   
had Jerri been your trainee…"  
  
"Oh, shut up, _horse_!"  
  
Tantris laughed again. "Why, is our noble little peacock embarrassed," he asked   
in delighted malice. "How unlike him this is! Perhaps we should capture this   
moment forever in writing. Quickly, someone get a scribe!"  
  
Kris mutter something inaudible as he turned his head away to hide his flush,   
but Valdemar though it was something to the affect of "I'll 'capture the moment   
forever,' you…"  
  
Lashan spoke up. "Would you be reborn, 'Noble little Peacock," she asked,   
perversely deriving pleasure from the young man's annoyance. 'And he called me   
the sadist!' Valdemar thought, brushing a raven lock back and his grin forcing   
his almond shaped black eyes to squint just slightly.  
  
"To get away from the tormenting I get here, yes. In fact, I think I will, thank   
you." Kris tightened his arms about his chest and looked farther away, closing   
his eyes, looking miffed.  
  
Ylsa chuckled. "Aw, poor, abused baby," she teased. "You won't go alone. I want   
to see if I can catch up to my girls before they catch up to me."  
  
Kris snorted. "Oh, comforting. Another 'teacher' telling me I'm too vain for my   
own good." But Kris seemed to perk up at the idea of Ylsa going with him.  
  
Lashan rubbed her eyes as the sun began to set over the water. "Well, I'm for   
bed." She stood and walked to the door, "You coming, Val, or are you going to   
socialize some more?"  
  
"And leave my lady unescorted?! Not a chance!"  
  
Lashan snorted as he followed her out. "Flatterer," she voiced as he watched the   
sun set.  
  
"Always," Valdemar said as-a-matter-of-factly. "But, you're worth it."  
  
She smiled slightly at him. She's told him he was he first lover, and her was   
grateful for it, and hardly would likely risk losing her. She was his   
compliment, his Need. He wanted nothing more. As they walked back, hand in hand,   
to their own little bungalow, he sang to himself, and into her mind, :That's   
where we wanna go…: 


End file.
